Burned by Magic (The Baine Chronicles #1)

Then again, most of the rooms were empty, so maybe the Chief Mage really did stick his guests in the tower. It would definitely discourage return visitors, and since he didn’t seem to be interested in entertaining, I wouldn’t put it past him.

Thankfully, even reprobates like me were allowed to use the bathrooms, and I was pleasantly surprised to discover a claw-foot tub with running hot water. I hadn’t been sure there would be hot water, since every single source of light I’d seen in the castle was fueled by spelled candles, indicating a lack of electricity. I figured the mages probably just spelled the water hot themselves when they used the facilities. But even though the Chief Mage, like most of his kind, refused to use technology himself, apparently he wasn’t above using his magic to achieve the same effects to provide hot water for everyone. I frowned, wondering whether he’d enchanted the water pipes himself or if it was something the Mage’s Guild maintained. From what little I understood of magic, using it to run hot water through such a huge place was no mean feat.

My grumbling stomach urged me through my bath faster than I liked, and with a fluffy white robe wrapped around my body I headed back up to my tower room to dress. As I was debating whether or not I should wear the same pair of underwear for the third day in a row, it occurred to me that I should look in the dresser. Maybe the last ‘guest’ had left behind something I could wear.

My eyes nearly popped out of my skull when I opened the top drawer. There was a lot more than just someone’s discarded granny panties inside here – the drawer held several pairs of underwear and tops. A chill went through me as I pulled out a pair of basic white panties and held them up to my hips – they were exactly my size. The black tank top I pulled out was the same, as were the stretchy black cotton pants I pulled out of the second drawer.

What the fuck? Had the Chief Mage ordered clothing for me? There was enough here for at least a week’s worth of outfits. The only reason I could fathom as to why these would be here, was because he’d already been planning to keep me here for an extended length of time.

The thought filled me with a combination of hope and apprehension. Hope, because it meant I had at least a week to figure out how to escape this place, and apprehension because I had no idea what the Chief Mage had planned for me. Maybe he was lying, and he really did plan on using me for one of his experiments. I had no trouble envisioning his face hovering over me while I lay on a table, his cold violet eyes observing me clinically as he used his magic to scramble my intestines or something.

The very thought made me lose my appetite.

I should refuse these clothes, I thought, staring down at the underwear in my hands with disgust. Putting them on would be like accepting a gift, and the last thing I wanted was to be beholden to the Chief Mage in any way.

Never be too proud to take advantage of the resources around you. Roanas’s voice echoed in my ears. A silver rope might burn, but you can still use it to climb out of a pit.

Tears stung the corners of my eyes, and I dressed hurriedly. If I allowed myself to dwell on my thoughts too long, I would lapse into the grief hovering like a dark cloud above my head, just waiting for the right opportunity to burst. I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of a breakdown, so I pushed down the emotion and did my best not to focus on it.

I found a door that led from the East Wing onto the grounds, but as soon as I tried to step across the threshold an invisible barrier pushed me back. I grit my teeth as I tried again, and then a third time, to no success. Wards. I grimaced, noting the runes carved into the molding. It was unlikely they’d been keyed specifically to me, but clearly they wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t cleared exit the building, and I was definitely on the Not Authorized to Leave list.

Determined, I searched the palace for other exits, but every time I tried to pass through a door or window the same invisible barrier pushed me back. This explained why none of the mages or servants that passed me in the halls seemed to care what I did or where I went – there was no chance of me escaping unless the Chief Mage decided to change the wards. An hour later, I was tired, pissed and hungry, so I decided to wander down to the kitchen and find some food.

Despite the lack of a map, it wasn’t hard to find the kitchen – all I had to do was follow the scent of baking goods down a set of stairs that led from the foyer to a raised basement.

I moved down a stone corridor and took a right, then smiled as I found myself standing in a large, commercial-style kitchen. The space was pretty open, with all of the wood and coal-powered appliances flush against the far wall, and several large counters placed near the front where the kitchen staff chopped, kneaded and mixed various ingredients. The smell of roasting chicken and baking bread filled my nostrils, and I closed my eyes, inhaling greedily.

Jasmine Walt's books